Shakespeare's dust jacket blurb mentions his stint pursuing guerrillas of the Shining Path in Peru as well as his (as of 1990) twenty-odd years spent in Latin America. Clearly, the influence of Graham Greene colors Shakespeare's characters such as the alcoholic priest, the effete bishop, the corrupted policeman, and the "palanca" prisoner. And, the example of Garcia Marquez' non-magical realism shows in the portrayals of the three old men on the bench who serve as a chorus on the events rather confusingly and slowly spread out in the chronology of a novel that jumps from 1965 to 1983 to 1986 in the main parts and back to the earlier 20c in the backstory, very reminiscent of Latin American storytellers in its family saga of eccentrics and rogues.
In parts, the tale comes alive through the author's descriptions and word choices. In other places, it sags--especially in the end--and the tension brought by the real Sendero Luminoso to Peru drains from much of the narrative. By the end, you get the sense that the guerrillas are no more a national threat than the Weather Underground or Patty Hearst's SLA was to the U.S. However, I doubt that this was Shakespeare's intention in his effort to convey the drama of terrorism and those caught up in its convictions.
Extra credit for a mention of Jean Gerson, 15th century Catholic theologian, and the curious byways into Mariolatry. This subplot itself does reveal relevant consquences for the titular plot of the novel, although by the end this purportedly central symbol appears diminished and secondary among what has become, despite its rather short length, a too complicated and diffused plot.
(At least one figure here returns in his other novel about Peru and the Senderos, The Dancer Upstairs. Comparisons to Mario Vargas Llosa's novel The Real Life of Alejandro Mayta invited.)